Chapter Twenty-Six
Reed placed both hands on the wall in his office and cringed. Lori made a decent living working the legal end of Alliance alone. Million-dollar mergers from which she made a percentage. No need to go to court. No need to file extra papers. Write up a prenuptial . . . execute a prenuptial.
What a scam.
Only none of it was illegal that he could see. There might be a question of morality, and certainly in the case of Trina Petrov, someone, somewhere was going to question the legality of a fake marriage resulting in her ending up with half a billion dollars. And yes, Paul Wentworth and his fake wife, Shannon, wouldn’t be very credible if the facts leaked to the public.
He had the information his client needed. Not the proof, but enough to deliver, collect a check, and walk away.
Reed knew, without a second look, he wasn’t going to deliver this information to Senator Knight. She’d find out the public facts. Lori Cumberland worked with the rich and famous, and she was the lawyer to write up and execute the prenuptial. Was it legal for a lawyer to represent both parties? He jotted down a note for himself to research. He was relatively sure it was, but wondered if there were any loopholes.
A low hum on his desk told him the devices he’d planted in Lori’s home were picking up voices.
He moved to turn it off. He already had the information he needed.
“I’m not leaving,” he heard Danny say.
Reed hesitated over the button.
“You’re sticking around because you want to protect me. Noble, and I appreciate it. But it isn’t needed.”
“Don’t go, Dan. C’mon,” Reed prodded the air as if his chant would somehow go through space and hit Lori’s brother in the cerebellum.
“You just fired Cooper.”
“I didn’t fire him!” Lori’s voice rose.
“I don’t see him following you around anymore.”
“Danny . . . stop. I’m fine. You’re cramping my style.”
“Ha. Is this about making a crack about Reed’s pants on the living room floor?”
“Oh, Lord, do you have to mention that again?”
Danny laughed. “Seriously, sis. I think it’s great you have a guy in the mix. If you have company, maybe a tie on the door. We can work this out.”
Reed found himself smiling. Are we in college?
“I stopped putting ties on doors when I was in law school.”
“Yeah, but it worked,” Reed muttered to himself.
“It’s a great system,” Danny said.
“You’ve been here a month. I love you, but I don’t want anything to come between us.”
There was some noise. Danny’s voice sounded farther away.
Reed turned up the mic.
“And I love you too much to leave now. I’ll risk pissing you off until I know you’re safe.”
“Danny!”
“Lori! This isn’t negotiable, oh Mighty Lawyer. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened and I wasn’t here.”
Reed tapped a nervous finger on his desk. “I always knew I liked you, kid.”
Lori’s voice traveled. “You’re annoying.”
“You love me anyway,” Danny called after her.
Once a month, usually at Sam’s Malibu estate, she and Lori met and discussed current and prospective clients of Alliance.
At that exact moment, they had ten marriages in various stages. Two of which were walking the edge of voiding their contracts because the relationships had become physical. And so long as a child wasn’t a result, Alliance and the contracts signed were in effect if either party wanted out on the agreed upon date. They’d built in nearly every clause, including death. Although Trina’s situation wasn’t covered. Something Sam and Lori discussed over a bottle of really good Sangiovese on her back porch overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
“You know I’m not happy about you telling Cooper to piss off.”
Lori rolled her eyes. “I’m American, I don’t tell anyone to piss off.”
Occasionally, an English saying would leak through Sam’s words.
“You know what I mean.”
“Petrov is smoke and mirrors. He’s spinning around in Munich and Prague, trying to drum up money. He isn’t watching me.”
“He’s dangerous.”
“I know this. We’ve gone over this. Trina is the one who needs security, not me. I have cameras and intercoms all over my house. My office is secure. I’m good.” Lori quickly changed the subject. “Trina deposited money in the account.”
“What?”
“The amount that Fedor was due to pay when they divorced.”
“She didn’t have to do that,” Sam said.
Lori shrugged. “Technically, we did our job.”
“That’s not how I feel.”
“Me either. It feels like blood money.”
“Neither one of us pulled any triggers.”
“I still think we should have known Fedor wasn’t stable.” How many times had Lori kicked herself about that fact?
Sam topped off their glasses of wine. “Let’s just hold on to it for now, pay for her security . . . whatever she needs. If we get through the year without any more from her father-in-law, we’ll donate the rest to suicide awareness or something like that.”
“I like that idea.”
“How is it working out with Avery in your building?”
“I never see her. She’s been in Texas more than in LA. She and Trina really hit it off.”
“I’m thankful for that. I missed the drama at Wentworth’s fundraiser. Gabi said it wasn’t comfortable.”
“We need to do an intervention with Shannon . . . or find her a date.” Lori spent the next thirty minutes and the rest of the bottle of wine discussing the possibility of creating an actual elite dating service.
“You’re suggesting we screen potential suitors as closely as we screen temporary spouses?”
“Anything less and we’re nothing more than an online dating app. And when marriages end, like with Shannon, we offer unlimited dating service. Make sure they have a man on their arm for events like she had last month.”
“Fake dating?”
“Or the real thing. We’d have more clients. We’d need more staff . . . none of which would know the truth about Alliance.”
“I like this idea, Lori.”
“I do, too. Maybe it’s because I’m getting my sexy on with Reed, but I hate to think of anyone without someone to play with.”
Sam sat back, her unruly red hair blowing in her face with the wind off the ocean. “How are things with Reed?”
“They’re really good. Almost too good.”
“Why do you say that?”
“When was the last time too good lasted for me?”
“When was the last time anything lasted for you? I was starting to think of you as the one-night stand lawyer.”
“It’s expected when you’re a divorce attorney.”
“Says you. I’m glad it’s working out.”
“Me too.”
Sam’s housekeeper came outside. “Is Ms. Cumberland staying for dinner?”
Lori shook her head. “No. I’ve gotta get going.”
“You sure?” Sam asked.
“Hot date.”
Lori stood and gathered the papers off the table.
“I’m going to have a small dinner party next week. Can I count on you bringing Reed?”
Lori calculated how many people in her personal life had met Reed and decided the risk was worth it. Besides, he’d already met Sam.
“Let me know the date and time, and I’ll ask him.”
She swung her purse over her shoulder. “Oh, hey . . . did you or Gabi get ahold of Susan Wilson?”
Sam hesitated.
“The woman who approached me at Wentworth’s fundraiser.”
“Ah, yeah . . . Gabi is working on that.”
“Perfect.” She kissed Sam’s cheek. “We’ll talk later.”
Lori needed a night out of the city. She’d hinted that she wanted to see where Reed lived. That wasn’t going to happen.
Not yet.
If ever.
The pit he was sinking in just kept getting deeper. There wasn’t a way to walk away.
Not that he wanted to.
Every time he looked in the mirror, he cringed. His mother wouldn’t be proud, his sisters would probably disown him.
The hardest part was going to be the fall. The moment Lori realized why he was in her life, and the look she’d have on her face . . .
So here he was, putting off the inevitable. Every day was a search to find out how to dig himself out of the hole he’d fallen in.
Hell, he’d kick his own ass if he could.
It was times like this he wished he was Catholic so he could walk into a confessional and scrub all the sin away.
He ran a hand through his hair, grabbed his duffel bag, and stormed out the door. The drive to her condo normally focused him.
Not today.
He texted her from the turnaround. I’m here.
Running a little late. Five minutes.
He took a minute for himself before putting the Jeep into park. He waved at the doorman. “Just picking Lori up.”
The guy waved him on.
A wave to the desk, a smile to the security guard, and he was in the elevator.
He knocked twice before Danny answered. “Hey, Reed. She’s getting ready.”
The keys in his hand dangled on his thumb. “Thanks.” He smiled, looked around the room.
“We won’t be back tonight,” Reed informed him.
“Yeah, Lori told me.”
Reed nodded. What was taking her so long?
“Want something to drink?”
“I’m good.” He wasn’t good, he was anxious, edgy.
“Danny?” Lori walked into the room wearing jeans and a snug T-shirt.
Hot . . . she was so fucking hot. Had he ever seen her in denim? He didn’t think so.
“Hey.” She snuck up on him while his brain was processing her ass in jeans and kissed him quickly. “I could have met you downstairs.”
“That wasn’t how I was raised.”
She walked back toward her room. “Just need to grab my bag.”
Did those hips swing as she walked away?
Damn, he was in trouble.
Danny slapped his arm. “Hey, that’s my sister.”
Reed turned toward him, arms at his side. “You might as well deck me now.”
Lori’s brother burst out laughing.
“No, really.”
The laughter grew until Lori walked back into the room. “Did I miss something?”
Danny grabbed his sister’s suitcase, shoved it in Reed’s hand. “Go, kids. Have a good time . . . and remember”—he waved a hand in the air between the two of them—“use those condoms. Safe sex is the only sex to have.”
Lori walked out the door first.
Before Danny shut the door, Reed turned. “Seriously, dude. One free punch, anytime.”
Instead of a fist, Danny slammed the door in his face; laughter followed them down the hall.
The hotel was on the coast in Santa Barbara, just a couple of hours north. The longer they drove, the more the muscles in her back started to relax. “I love the city,” she said out of nowhere. “But I need to escape it a couple times a month or I go crazy.”
“Have you ever considered moving?”
Had she? Not really. “It fits my lifestyle right now.”
“Santa Monica is a little of both. Just city enough, with an ocean to calm your nerves when you need to just look at nothing.”
“So why Santa Barbara? Why not just take me to your place?”
“I’m a slob.”
“You are not.”
“I am. Never make my bed, don’t have a maid.”
Okay, she did have a maid service. But in her defense, she was almost never home, and when she was, the last thing she wanted to do was push a vacuum.
“My bathroom is never a mess after you leave, and you don’t leave the seat up.”
“My mother and sisters drilled that in.”
“Good for them. Danny is awful.”
Reed glanced at her, returned his eyes to the road up the coast. “I’m glad he stuck around.”
“He’s annoying.”
“You love it.”
“I’m tolerating it. He needs to move on soon or we’re going to be at each other’s throats. I don’t like being in the position of judging his lifestyle.”
“Then don’t.”
“If he wasn’t living with me, I wouldn’t. But when you’re faced with a dreamer, day in and day out, when you’ve somehow been delivered the practical gene, it’s not possible.”
“Your brother is a good guy.”
“I couldn’t agree more. He wouldn’t hurt a flea if he knew it was in pain. He opens doors for women, says thank you to the waiter . . . and tells old women how beautiful they are.”
“Sounds perfect.” Reed’s voice held a slight edge.
“He isn’t employed, Reed, a nonstarter. His idea of the future is whether he can afford the tacos at the local shack or the one-buck menu at McDonald’s. It was cute in college, which, by the way, he has been to and graduated with a freakin’ degree in engineering. But no, that was a way to get through school. I swear he grew up in the wrong era. Should have been a hippie in the sixties.”
“Does he do drugs?”
“A little pot, I think. Not that often. At least not since he’s been in LA.”
Reed bobbed his head as he changed lanes to get around a slow-moving car. “I get it. You’re good for him.”
“How so?”
“Look at you. Successful, driven, you have your life together . . . friends to anchor you. Keep showing him that happiness and he might want it for himself.”
She hadn’t thought about it that way. “He does seem a little different this time.”
“This time?”
“He shows up every couple of years for a few weeks . . . flitters in the guest room, on the couch . . . then leaves with a note saying he’ll see me for turkey. Not this time.”
“Because he hasn’t left?”
“Because I don’t think he’s sticking around waiting for the next great whatever to pull him away.” And it wasn’t like he was asking her for money or anything. He just stuck around. Yeah, he ate her food, but it wasn’t like a teenage kid that left the cupboard with nothing but crumbs.
“He’s sticking around because he cares, Lori.”
She wanted to blow him off.
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“That he cares? He’s my brother, he’s prewired to care.”
“Yeah, but this is beyond a family obligation. This is when it counts.”
Her vision tunneled when she turned her eyes on him.
“Are you going to jump on the you need a bodyguard bandwagon again?”
“You do.”
“Let’s change the subject . . . oh, I have one. Have you ever used a dating app?”
“No.” His answer was too quick.
“Yes, you have.”
Reed didn’t meet her gaze.
“There is nothing to be embarrassed about. Lots of people use them.”
“A friend of mine asked me to sign up to see if his girlfriend was cheating on him.”
“Was she?”
“Yes.”
She paused. “What did he do?”
“He dumped her.”
“While you were on the app, did you go out with anyone on it?”
“Lori?”
“Yeah?”
“You need a bodyguard.”
She groaned and pointed out the window. “Oh, look . . . a unicorn.”
Early fall in Santa Barbara had some of the best weather in the country. Not only was it still warm during the days, but the nights didn’t get the memo that fall was descending upon them.
The resort hotel Reed arranged had every amenity a couple seeking an evening away from home could want. An open-air lobby greeted them with massive circular tables with floral arrangements that towered five feet. The warm breeze off the Pacific and fresh scent of the ocean calmed Lori’s nerves after the drive.
They walked through manicured gardens and meandering pathways flanked by palm trees and lush green shrubs and the ever-prevalent bougainvillea until they arrived at their oceanfront suite. They walked through Spanish-influenced arched stucco columns and heavy wooden doors into luxury.
“This is stunning,” Lori exclaimed as she dropped her purse on the bed and crossed to the French doors that opened onto a balcony. Once outside, she rested her hands on the railing, closed her eyes, and let the sun drench her face.
Behind her, Reed dealt with the bellman who helped them with their bags.
Reed moved behind her, circled his arms around her waist, and rested his head on her shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll ever look at the water again and not think of you,” he confessed.
Her insides did one of those girlie things that happened when someone you cared about took your relationship to another level with just a few words.
“Me either.”
His chest rose and fell on her back. “Sometimes I wish we could just stop everything going on around us for a moment in time.”
“Like now?” she asked.
“Yeah, like this exact moment.”
Only he didn’t pause, and the clock kept ticking. “Pool, beach, spa? What is your pleasure, Counselor?”
“How about some pool time overlooking the ocean?”
“Perfect, all the love of the ocean without the sand.” He kissed the side of her head and moved back into the room.
She watched him walk away. Something was bothering him that he wasn’t talking about. By the end of their stay, she would flat-out ask him if he didn’t fess up.
They swam, soaked up the sun, had a couple of umbrella filled froufrou drinks, and even managed to talk politics without so much as a cross word. They took their time showering together, concentrating on all the good parts.
By the time they sat down to dinner at the five-star restaurant the resort offered, Lori felt as if she’d been there for a couple of days instead of a handful of hours. “I really needed this,” she said for the hundredth time since they arrived.
“Every weekend should be spent on vacation,” he told her.
“But when would you go to the store and finish all those necessary chores you put off all week long?”
They sat drinking wine as the sun sizzled over the ocean. And just when she thought there might be a cooler breeze than expected, one of the waiters arrived to turn on the patio heater to ensure they were comfortable. “Okay, how about every other weekend on vacation?”
“I like it. There should be a bill on the congressional floor mandating it. Imagine how productive the workplace would be if weekends were really days that you spent off?”
Their storybook night, complete with making love with the moonlight shining in the open French doors, ended too soon. As she drifted to sleep in Reed’s arms, she decided that whatever was bothering him would wait until breakfast. Maybe a restful night would take away his edge.